I have often wrestled with my feelings concerning my ex-husband and his involvement with our children. And I have often voiced those concerns here, there and elsewhere.

Simply put, I hate his choices. I resent him for his choices. I do not understand his choices.

This coming week will mark two years since he has seen the kids. I cannot stand two days without them, so two years is more than I can fathom. How do you go so long without seeing children you created? Children who worship the ground you walk on?

Like many children in this situation, my kids think their father is the greatest thing since sliced bread. The older two do, actually, since they remember him. Jenna has no memories of her father, other than phone conversations (and I seriously doubt she remembers the actual conversation). They think he’s wonderful because he isn’t mean like I am. He doesn’t make them do their homework or eat their food or go to bed by 8 p.m. He sends them birthday cards with $20 bills tucked inside or sometimes boxes with shoes or toys for Christmas.

Sometimes I really hate him because the kids like him better. I know it’s because they’re young and they don’t understand and one day they will realize the sacrifice and struggle that go along with being a single parent, but still I get so angry.

Ever since they were conceived he has been involved as little as possible. I could give examples until I am blue in the face, actually. But more recently, ever since our split, he has rarely seen the children. Before we moved to Tennessee, he’d see the kids for 40 minutes of his hour lunch break once, maybe twice, a week and he was living 10 minutes away from us (he actually told me he was living in his truck at one point, and to not tell his parents, but I later found out he was living with the girl he left me for). So when we moved to The Volunteer State, I knew we’d barely see him. And I was right.

Still – two years? My goodness. And he hardly calls them. I have resorted to sending him MySpace messages when I need to tell him something because he is more likely to respond to those because I can tell when he’s read a message I’ve sent. Last week I sent a message about Jaiden once again making straight As on her report card and Jaylen continuing to make improvements in terms of his behavior and social abilities; he’s read it, but has yet to respond, call, text or anything. Not that I am surprised, my heart is just broken for my children. They deserve to have a father who is proud of them, who is amazed by their accomplishments, who can stare at them every day and be in awe of their beauty and the person they are each becoming. They deserve to be commended for their achievements and it really angers me when he ignores them.

I don’t think they knew what they were missing until we moved in with Darin.

Suddenly, Jaiden is hesitant to speak with her father on the phone when he calls. I have to force her. I think she now knows what a daddy is and what a daddy does. Through Darin’s example, and probably through growing up, she now understands a daddy’s role in a family. She knows there isn’t supposed to be a mommy playing both roles.

Since we’ve been engaged, we decided we would let the kids decide what they would call their step-parent; Emma calls me Mama Echo and my kids call Darin by his first name (sometimes Jenna calls him Darin Daddy or Daddy Darin). They call their father Daddy. But more and more lately, Jaiden has been referring to Darin has her daddy.

Tonight at dinner she said she missed her daddy and the other two chimed in, saying they missed him too and asked when he’d be back. I typically do not answer this question because I have absolutely no idea (and refuse to make excuses for him), but I offered to call him for them like I always do. This is when Jaiden clarified, “No, not Daddy, we miss Darin.”

That? Is absolutely bittersweet. Sweet because it just is, but bittersweet because perhaps she is beginning to get over her father’s lame attempt at being involved with her, and she’s only six.

Darin does the things dads are supposed to do, like carting kids to the dump with him just because they want to go along for the ride, helping Jaiden paint her bike, jumping with them on the trampoline, fixing breakfast every morning and much, much more. He praises their successes and talks to them when they need to be corrected. He goes to soccer games, PTA performances and picks them up from school when I can’t. He tries to teach them how to play baseball and soccer and turn the lights off when they leave a room. And he doesn’t mind the ‘daddy duties’ I assign him (ha) like helping Jaiden pull her tooth out (because I do not do teeth).

I never set out to replace their father. That never has been and never will be an option. But in Darin I found a partner who would not only be there for me but would also be there for my children in a way they needed desperately. The first time I saw him again as an adult, I was drawn to the way he treated all of the children (his and mine).

Not that he’s perfect – none of us is – but at least he’s here and he’s trying. I think that’s what they see in him, what we all see in him.

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